


The Artist

by not1inamillion



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Clexa, F/F, Guard!Lexa, One Shot, SkaiKru!Lexa, artist!Clarke, polaris au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 01:02:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6401569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not1inamillion/pseuds/not1inamillion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An au where Polaris went into orbit like it was supposed to, and Lexa was born and raised in the Ark.</p><p>Growing bored of Ark life, Clarke takes it upon herself to start some late night graffiti. So far she hasn't been caught, nor encountered any problems with the guards. Until one particularly attractive guard finds out her little secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Artist

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Emily as usual](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Emily+as+usual).



> NOTE: Due to popular demand (aka like three people told me to do it so I did), I am turning this one shot into a full length fic! It's called 'Painting in Red', and if you like this, I recommend you check it out!

Her mother always said idle hands are the Devil’s playground. Clarke never really took the time to think about that sentiment too much, until she started to do graffiti. It was against the rules technically, but Clarke figured that anything that makes the Ark more beautiful shouldn’t be turned away. 

Clarke couldn’t possibly be sent to prison for such a crime, let alone floated. Partially due to her mother’s status, and partially due to the minor nature of the crime. Most of the time the janitors washed her pictures away within a few hours. Other times, they’d stay up there for days, maybe due to negligence, and maybe due to the fact that her pictures were normally quite good. Some janitor out there was probably a fan.

Clarke didn’t anticipate much trouble during that night’s raid, as she’d come to call them. She figured she’d hit up the farm station and see what blank wall she could find there. She never knew what she’d draw until she saw the wall. Then she seemed to know exactly what it needed.

Clarke slipped out shortly after curfew, when everyone would be in bed. Except for the night guards, who were easy enough to avoid. There were only a handful on duty at night. No one starts any trouble after lights out.

As Clarke walked, she glanced at the walls. She noticed there were still some chalk smudges left over from one of her more recent raids. The clean up was some sloppy work. Clarke liked that traces still remained though. It meant she was leaving her mark, which is exactly why she had started.

She paused at a particularly long stretch of hallway. It was one of the more central ones to the Ark, one most people passed through on a regular basis. Clarke had never tried something in a spot so public. Normally she travelled along to edges of the Ark, where no one would really care if some random doodles showed up on the walls.

Once she got the idea, Clarke didn’t hesitate to take out her chalk. The wall was wide enough that she could draw a whole scene if she wanted, and if time allowed. Since the hall was so central, guards were more likely to pass through. Clarke would have to work quick, but the adrenaline made it worth it.

Clarke started on her far left, drawing trees as tall as she could reach. She sprinkled stars in the sky as she went, making sure to put a particularly big one right in the middle, the Ark. She drew every type of plant she could remember seeing in her Earth Studies textbook. She wishes she had some paints, so she could add colors to the flowers, but she figures this will still be her best work yet, despite just being scratched out with chalk.

She was crouching down to outline a river when she became aware of someone behind her. She had been so absorbed in her work, she didn’t even know how long the other person had been standing there. Clarke turned around slowly, fully prepared to talk her way out of this.

The person was a girl in a guard’s uniform. She couldn’t have been much older than Clarke. It was strange to see such a petite girl in such a powerful uniform, but one look in her eyes, and Clarke could understand how she got her position. The girl’s mossy eyes were clear and calculating, ready for anything.

But to Clarke’s surprise, the girl blushed slightly when she turned around. 

“Can I help you?” Clarke didn’t mean to sound hostile, but it’s best to assert dominance right away. She can’t be scared of this guard.

“So you’re the Artist. I never would have expected the councilwoman’s daughter.”

Of course the guard knew who she was. “It’s always the person you least expect, isn’t it?” Clarke responded smartly.

“So it would seem.” A small smile twitched on the guard’s lips.

“So I guess I’m in trouble now? I get a slap on the wrist?” Clarke guesses. Better to face the problem head on.

The girl cocked her head a little. “I suppose that would be protocal. All the guards have been dying to catch you. Such a pointless crime, so needless. Rebellion just for the sake of it.”

“I’m just trying to make the Ark a more beautiful place,” Clarke responds sweetly.

“Then pull your hair out of your eyes, so everyone could see your face. There’s no need to vandalize.”

Clarke smiles at this. Half because of the compliment, and half because she just figured out a way to get out of this.

“You know, I haven’t seen you around.” Clarke comments, tone casual.

“I’m new to the force,” The girl admits, still maintaining eye contact. 

“You must be pretty smart then.”

“Smart enough to not fall for the charms of a criminal.” 

Clarke cocks her head to match the girl. “I’m not a criminal. I’m the Artist. I’m Clarke Griffin.”

“And I’m Lexa Woods. I’m the Guard. As in, the Guard that caught the Artist that got too arrogant.”

“I didn’t see you stopping me.” Clarke challenged.

Lexa flushes again, far more noticeably this time. “I never said I was going to. I caught you weeks ago. I never said anything about arrest.”

Clarke cocked an eyebrow, surprised. “Oh?”

“You are a talented artist. I rather enjoyed seeing your creations pop up around the Ark.”

So it wasn’t a merciful janitor that didn’t rat her out. Oddly enough, it was a merciful guard. A merciful, very attractive guard.

“Thank you,” Clarke says automatically.

“I’m just glad I finally got to meet the Artist. See her in action.”

“I’m glad to be of service.”

Lexa nodded, as if they had reached an understanding. Then she side stepped to get out of Clarke’s way, and continued down her patrol route.

Clarke set down the chalk and slide down the wall so she was sitting on the floor. She didn’t need to vandalize anymore. There was something else making the Ark beautiful. And she fully intended to follow up first thing tomorrow.


End file.
